You tried to spit in the eye of a dead man´s face Attacked the ways of a man not yet in his grave But your hate was over all too soon Because nothing is over, and nothing´s through ´Til we bury you
For the love of brother I will sing this fucking song Aesthetics Of Hate I hope you rot in hell
The words I read on the screen left me fucking sick I felt the hatred rising, you son of a bitch You branded us pathetic for our respect But he made us Driven Such deep reverence Far beyond the rest
For the love of brother I will say these fucking words Aesthetics Of Hate I hope you burn in hell
Long live memories Live his freedom vicariously Defend tenfold His honor we´ll always uphold
For the love of brother I will Say these fucking words No silence against ignorance Iconoclast, I hope you burn! Burn! In! Hell!
May the hands of God strike them down May the hands of God strike them down May the hands of God strike them down May the hands of God... ...Strike...
....Down Strike...Down Oh! May the hands of God strike them down! May the hands of God strike them down! May the hands of God strike them down! May the hands of God! Strike! Down!
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